Reborn Dog
by Fluehatraya
Summary: Edward Elric awakes to find that he is centuries in a future where alchemy is a lost art and he is not actually Edward Elric. What is more, new plotters have plans for him, and there is no safe haven.
1. In Which a Hero is Born

**Disclaimer: I do not own FMA**

~~~Section Divider~~~

_Whoosh._

That sound was the first thing Edward noticed as he slowly regained consciousness. His mind was like viscous syrup, his thoughts muddled and moving at a pace slower than a snail's. Eventually he came to recognize how his fingers and toes twitched as he struggled to lift eyelids, feeling as if there were concrete blocks on top of them.

For some reason, Edward could not breathe. He did not need to breathe. It was as if he were floating in a state of stasis, all bodily functions capable of being ignored. The alchemist did not even know when he has last been conscious, or why he had become conscious once more; it seemed unnecessary, and like a burden.

However, Edward could not ignore the low murmurs that he could just hear, or the constant whooshing sounds. Both sounds puzzled him; what were those murmurs coming from, and what could possibly make a sound that whooshed? It didn't feel windy.

Finally, he managed to peel his eyelids back, revealing golden eyes peering out into a vision of green. Green was all around, with bubbles floating up before him and murky images blurring a bit beyond. What was this? Edward started panicking, but forced himself to calm down until he became aware enough to recognize more about his condition.

First, he had to test his movements. It took a lot of willpower, but the alchemist managed to achieve shifting and moving up his flesh leg and arms. Sure enough, it felt as if he were submersed in a pool, albeit of a liquid thicker than water, with small bubbles trailing after his movements. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, for it had been a long time since he had swam; such actions were advised against when one had hunks of metal attached to them.

Speaking of automail . . . Edward looked to his right arm and the area around it. Sure enough, it was human flesh. He frowned, for his memories were mixed up at the present time, and he wasn't sure exactly when and how he had regained it. He and Al had been successful, right? This thought calmed the alchemist considerably: he had achieved his life goal, so surely whatever was happening to him now did not matter so much.

However, something seemed wrong, nagging at him the more he looked at his right arm. Eventually it struck him: the scars from the automail limb and where the arm had reconnected were gone! How could this be?

Edward craned his neck down to discover that, not only was he lacking any article of clothing, but that his left leg was also there, not a sign of metal in sight (and the alchemist was _sure_ that he had not regained that limb); and what was more was that the scars crossing over his chest were also gone! Edward gasped at this, and only at the back of his mind did he start wondering how he could breathe and gasp when he was surrounded by a liquid; what was going on here?

There were other things than just the case of his reappearing limbs and vanishing scars for Edward to mull over now: for he caught sight of strange patches attached to his chest, wires extending out of them and extending upwards to the top of . . . was this a tank that he was in? Although he found his movements sluggish still, the People's Alchemist started patting from as low as he could reach to upwards, where he found a strange cord floating above him, attaching to a piece cupping over his mouth and nose. Ah, so was this how he could remain breathing?

Nevertheless, Edward was freaked out by what he had discovered, and started looking about. All he could see though, through the green, were shapes beyond the tank that he could not even make out, blurred beyond recognition by the glass (at least, the tank seemed to be made out of glass) and liquid he was contained within.

Edward frowned and reached forward to touch the curved tank wall in front of him. Then he moved to clap his hands together as if in prayer, determined to test something and, if it worked, get answers . . .

~~~Section Divider~~~

William sat with long desks surrounding his sides and front. Various holoscreens floated about him and an actual computer screen raised on the desk in front of him, while several more keyboards, each hooked up to an individual holoscreen projector, were sprawled about his workspace. A disconcerted look was on his face as he stared intently at the screen before him, eyes narrowed as the radiant lights added to the fluorescent lighting of the room and made everything too bright.

On the screen were several lines with a number, from one to eleven, denoting them. They had all shown a trend of small and widely spaced fluctuations for as long as William could remember (save for seven of them, which had long since become completely straight), and only since just a few minutes ago had one of the lines' fluctuations suddenly spiked and scrunched together. This concerned William, for it could possibly mean a premature awakening of one of the test subjects, and this was a highly controlled experiment. What was more, if the test subject did awaken before time, then it could not simply be put back into its stasis, for it would have messed it up.

William reached over to one of the holoscreen projectors to his right, a finger alighting upon a touch pad and making a swiveling motion. The holoscreen the projector was linked to rushed over to float a foot and a half in front of William's face, and he then moved to the number pad on the keyboard linked to that holoscreen, punching in numbers as one would do with a telephone.

The holoscreen William faced flickered wildly, and when it cleared the screen revealed the stern face of a man reaching an elderly age, frowning at William.

"What is so important that it requires an immediate holoscreen link, William?" The man before him snapped.

"Sir, the readings on Test Subject 004 indicates either a technological mishap or an increase in brain function, and Project Ancient Art Weapon isn't due to be put to the actual test, let alone purpose, for another year!" William said, stating some of what his superior already knew in accordance with government conduct to ensure misinterpretation wouldn't happen.

The face of William's superior flushed red and drained white, his eyebrows and lips working, as he seemed to run through various emotions and struggle to respond.

"Immediately run an in-person check on Test Subject 004 and then the others. I expect it to be carried through like a crime scene, which nothing left unexamined and reported." He ordered, and William's hand snapped to his forehead in a salute. The holoscreen before him flickered once more as the man on the other side ended the communication link, and when it returned to normal revealed that it was once more blank.

William's brows knitted together, his lips pressed this. Placing his hands flat on the desk before him, he sat up sharply, his chair wheeling back a bit, and then curtly walked off. He would have to retrieve some of the technicians and guards.

All the while, William cursed. He'd had a nice life as a scientist on this project so far, and wasn't too keen on it turning out any other way. If Amestris didn't succeed in this endeavor, it could mean its end and his head on a platter to the Fuhrer for his failure.

~~~Section Divider~~~

**Author's Note: All critique, suggestions, questions, praise, flames, et cetera are very welcome! They let me know that the readers are interested in this story enough to read and respond to it in any way, and I appreciate reviews, which will spur me to post future chapters of this fic and strive to make it better. Also, does anyone know how to get the lines for section dividers in and, if so, could you please tell me?**


	2. In Which a Hero is Freed

**Disclaimer: I do not own FMA.**

~Section Divider~

Edward was pleased as the wall before him molded out, providing him a clean exit to step through. With the new opening, the green liquid that had encased him started pouring out onto the slick tile floor outside. As the alchemist's feet alighted upon the tank bottom, no longer suspended in the liquid his legs wobbled. He figured it must just be because he was unaccustomed to standing, for he could not see any visible signs of his muscles being atrophied. Indeed, he felt as if he were at the peak of health.

The alchemist started stepping forward and out of the tank, but was yanked back suddenly just as he was clearing the threshold by a tugging at his face and chest. Eyebrows knitting together in disconcertion, Edward attempted to discern the source of what was holding him back, and found it to be the cord and wires attached to him. Growling softly in irritation, he started wrenching off the foreign objects. Next thing he knew, he was yelping and practically leaping out of his skin from shock as loud sirens started blaring.

He placed his right hand flat to his chest as he leaned against the warped jamb of the tank with his other hand for support. The tile floor was slick with the green liquid, and it had only been that reflex, lashing his left arm out in search for something to steady him as he bare feet scrabbled for a hold on the floor.

Edward, once he had calmed down somewhat, started to take in his surroundings, but his observations were cut short as a whooshing sound invaded the average low hums, murmurs, and beeps of the room on top of the squealing sirens. It was that same sound that had snapped him out of stasis.

His head whipped towards the source, eyes narrowing as he purchased the men standing in the doorway, where they were dark silhouettes against the fluorescent light flooding into the shadowed room Ed had found himself in.

The men filed slowly into the room, and Edward released a low hiss at the sight of guns - rather peculiar looking ones, but unmistakably guns all the same - in the grasp of a few of them. He divided his attention between the gunmen and the mousey-looking man at front, wearing a white lab jacket. There were a few more men at back, but they remained there and were fidgety in their movements.

Edward gasped as he caught sight of the man in the white jacket, recognition flickering over his features, but then clenched his jaw and leered in return at the glare the man at front directed right at him; however the strange man's shoulders were tensed and fingers twitching as if nervous of something, but what? Regardless, in Ed's eyes he had presented himself as an enemy.

~Section Divider~

William could not help glaring at Test Subject 004; regardless of who he was (or rather, made from), it was his fault that William was now in potentially dangerous waters with General Mann and the Fuhrer. If only he had done what he had supposed to do!

Taking a deep breath, William schooled his face into a calmer mask, although he could still feel anger spurned forth by shivering unease churning somewhere within his torso.

"Test Subject 004, you will come with us." He instructed in a hard tone. He did not know what he was supposed to do from here on out, but knew that it would simply do to return the subject to the tank, and also that it was essential for them to gain the trust and keep a close eye on it - no, him. It was still difficult for William to think of a mere project as a person, as something more than an 'it', even if the proof was right before his eyes . . . quite clearly, actually. If William weren't a professional, and Edward distracted by the situation, the golden-eyed man's state of undress would surely be a cause of much embarrassment.

~Section Divider~

One of his eyebrows rose, and confusion slipped into Edward's face, which was currently twisted into a feral snarl. The man's speech was . . . so strange. It was definitely Amestrian, but the way he spoke was very peculiar to Ed, almost as if it were a different but closely related language. However, Edward forced this to the back of his mind for now, for the meaning had been clear enough.

"Fuck off." Ed spat.

~Section Divider~

William bristled, unaccustomed to such vulgar language directed towards him.

"Are your plasma magazines loaded?" William asked one of the guards he had brought with him.

"Yes sir, but you can't honestly expect us to-" The guard began, but William cut him off.

"The subject is resisting orders and, considering the manner of the project he is a part of, could be very dangerous even unarmed. It is your duty to subdue it without maiming or killing it." William explained.

The guards nodded, leveling their guns at Edward.

~Section Divider~

This was the last straw of Edward's patience. He lifted his arms up, and was visibly taken aback when he realized his right arm was flesh. Damn, he had forgotten; although it was great having his arm back (especially considering what he'd had to gone through to get it), it also meant he couldn't pull off his signature automail blade.

The guards continued to hold fire, waiting to see what Edward's next move was, as if they were holding out hope that they would not be required to open fire. Regardless of what they were told about this project (which wasn't much), all they could see before them was an understandably bewildered kid.

This hesitance wasn't lost on Edward, and a fire sparked in his eyes as his mouth formed from a snarl into a feral grin. A group shudder descended upon the group opposing him, as the alchemist made his next move.

~Section Divider~

**Author's Note:**

**All reviews for any reason appreciated. I also have a poll up on my profile to decide who the other three test subjects should be.**

**Concerning Edward's confusion about William's speech: approximately two centuries have passed in Amestris, and the language has changed considerably - it's like the difference between how we speak and write and Shakespeare's time; they're both considered Modern English, but as anyone that has read or seen anything written by Shakespeare or a parody of it, it's not much like how we speak and write.**

**Edward's strange reaction to William's appearance will be revealed later and no, he is not a carbon copy of someone Ed knew. That would not make any sense.**

**Yes, this does take place after the manga. Things such as why Edward has his left leg back and why he can use alchemy will also be covered later.**


	3. In Which a Hero Sets Forth

**Disclaimer: I do not own FMA.**

~Section Divider~

The others in the room could hardly hear the sound produced from Edward clapping his hands together over the siren wail, but nevertheless they took a step back. The tension was palpable in the air, and the slightest action, like what Ed had just done, made one feel as if they were juggling lit torches near a pile of volatile explosives.

William quirked an eyebrow quizzically as the hands clapped together. Was the Fullmetal Alchemist . . . praying? He'd read many biographies and reports on the famous alchemist, but they had never mentioned anything about him being religious. Indeed, from the sounds of some of them, it made him out to even hold contempt towards religion.

Still, something tugged at his mind, and the scientist realized it in horror just as Test Subject 004 stooped down towards the ground . . . it was the pose he took before activating his alchemic powers! Shit! Now that William thought about it, the cultivation tank hadn't been open or broken, but malformed. It appeared Project AAW was a success, but that was the least of his concerns right now.

William opened his mouth to warn his comrades, but by then large fists of concrete were breaking through the tile as the hands of the blonde before them slapped down to the ground with a flash of blue light.

The guards screamed as they were grasped in holds of unyielding stone and lofted up into the air, legs thrashing and heads flailing as they struggled futilely.

By now the technicians that had accompanied William and the guards had fled the scene, and with a startled exclamation, William turned his attention from gaping at one of the suspended guards to Test Subject 004, expression turning venomous as he saw . . . was that a taunting expression on the prick's face?

Noticing the golden gaze flick away to the ground near where the floor melded upwards into a fist, William saw what had taken the distracted the smirking test subject: one of the guards had dropped their plasma gun, and it lay abandoned on the ground.

Fullmetal moved for it, but slipped on the wet ground and collapsed backwards with a heavy thud. By the time he picked himself up, he saw William standing a bit to the left, the plasma gun in his hands and fixated on Edward.

~Section Divider~

Edward grunted at the sight, hating to admit that the scrawny man had one-upped him on this.

"Put your hands behind your head."

Scowling, Edward kept his arms at his side and, as if to antagonize his opposition, started swinging them loosely. This elicited something that sounded along the lines of 'don't make me pull this, you' that then strung off into something nonsensical that the alchemist assumed were swears that he didn't recognize to go along with the strange Amestrian. Huh, he should probably get around to learning those.

"Maybe I don't feel like it." Edward smirked. Taking advantage of the man's bemusement by not backing down from a threat reinforced with a gun, Ed launched into a sprint straight at him, quickly covering the small amount of space between them.

~Section Divider~

William panicked as the blonde came rapidly closer, eyes widening and breathing speeding up unconsciously. Only now was he recalling that this was the closest thing to the Fullmetal Alchemist, a human weapon that had faced down guns before.

He did the only thing that came to mind at that moment, choosing instinctual short term self-preservation over the threat from his superiors later, and pulled the trigger.

~Section Divider~

A hiss escaped his lips as he felt a burning sensation cut across his cheek, but did not stop until he neared his adversary. Too close to be fired at again and much too close for William's safety, Edward came to a sudden stop with a stomp of his right leg, as he swung his right arm up into an uppercut that connected, with a crunch, to William's jaw.

William toppled backwards and did not rise again, as blood welled up from his mouth. Edward sneered and released a contemptuous snort, looking down at his prone enemy from where he stood above him.

Taking a deep breath, Edward finally started assessing the area and his situation. His first action was to scan the room, where he saw the immobilized guards gawking at him or passed out, strange machines made of sleek metal with blinking lights and numerous controls, and more tanks like those that he had been contained within. He could see some people in a few down at the very end, but they were too far away to make out clearly, and Ed decided he didn't have enough time to check on them all. The other seven tanks (eight if one included his), were empty and drained of fluids, and Edward shuddered at the sight of them. There was something eerie about them.

Finally he touched his hand to the cheek that had felt burned. Edward's fingers came away with blood, but what surprised him more was the feeling as if he had touched a burn, wincing at the contact. Damn, what was that?

The last thing the confused alchemist noticed was the fact that he was in the nude, and had been seen by and had fought people while so. Flushing, Edward took a step towards William's unconscious form, where he relieved from his slack fingers the plasma gun and then gingerly took the white lab jacket. It wasn't what Ed would choose, but he didn't have a choice.

Tailoring it to fit him (although the vertically challenged alchemist wouldn't admit, even grudgingly, that the weedy scientist was still taller than him - damn, he had hit a huge growth spurt after the fight with Father, too; everybody in this place must just be a giant) with a quick application of alchemy, Edward donned the garment and stuck the plasma gun in one of the pockets after mulling over its peculiar appearance briefly. It wasn't a desirable place to put it, and he wasn't even sure what kind of safety measures could be activated or deactivated at the moment, but knew he didn't really have any options as of yet.

Unsupervised, armed, and modesty reclaimed, Edward approached the entryway, which he had not noticed close. He leapt back, startled, when it slid open with a whoosh seemingly of its own accord. Ed watched with eyes narrowed with suspicion as it shut, and tentatively stepped forwards towards it once more. He was still taken aback as it opened for him once more, but this time wasn't so shocked.

Warily, Edward poked his head out (hoping fervently that the door wouldn't shut on his neck like some demented guillotine-door) and, seeing nobody in sight of the sterile-looking hallway, ventured forth into unknown territory.

~Section Divider~

**Author's Note:**

**Yay, it only took three chapters to get out of one room. If anyone has a problem with my pacing, or has any thoughts on this story at all, please review on it. Also, Ed's memories are still a bit mixed up, and will be cleared up as the story progresses.**

**My plans for this story are to update on a daily basis. However, there are a few days (such as this Friday and Saturday) that I will likely be unable to. We're also moving (I just found out, and there's not even a month left until we move) and I have some health problems. No, I am not going to go into detail about them. Rest assured, anonymous reviewer, that I do not plan on abandoning this story.**

**If I am missing any words, please inform me. I have noticed that some are lost when changing the document type.**


	4. In Which a Hero Sees the World

**Disclaimer: I do not own FMA.**

~Section Divider~

Edward strode through the stark hallways, taking the left way, for the only other direction to go was right. At any other time he would have sauntered like usual, but he was in unfamiliar and hostile territory with no knowledge of how he came to be here. From his muddled memories (another thing that disconcerted him), the last thing he was sure he could remember was being on a train, heading back from the far west. As a result, his steps exhibited timidity and his shoulders unconsciously tensed and hunched. It made him look suspicious, but there was nobody around anyways.

The alchemist passed by many doorways, but he ignored them for the most part, figuring that they led to more disturbing rooms like he had woken up in a tank in. In any case, even if he wanted to check them out, the ones with plates next to them stated their purpose (written in Amestrian but with the spelling off, he noted - everybody here must have learned the language from a dyslexic second speaker to it, he was sure) and none of them piqued Ed's interest, while the other ones had only numbers etched into the plates and, below them, strange contraptions with thin slots installed into the wall.

Finally he reached the end of the hallway, which opened up into a rotunda that led out into more hallways, with several glass chutes running up and going through the roof above. Edward flattened himself to the wall, peering out into the rotunda. There was a single desk there with a bored looking secretary, flipping through the limp pages of a magazine. Fullmetal gaped when he saw a man shoot down on a platform down one of the chutes, hand a paper to the disinterested secretary, and go back up.

Was that his way to freedom?

Deciding to take the chance, Edward steeled himself and walked forward towards the chutes, forcing himself to look like he belonged there was much as possible. The secretary registered the white lab jacket with a single quick glance and returned to her magazine, taking what she had seen in her quick glimpse at face value.

Edward peered suspiciously at the chute he approached, but nevertheless stepped into it. He then looked to a pad with buttons. One of them had AAW printed on it with an arrow pointing towards it, saying 'you are here'. The others had numbers, and skimming them, Ed pressed the one marked 'one'.

He gasped as he shot upwards on a small platform, hands squeaking as they slid along the glass wall where he had placed them to stabilize himself from the sudden jolt. It was like an elevator but only places like Central Headquarters had such contraptions, and they didn't work nearly this smoothly!

Ed watched as he passed through several levels, catching glimpses of people in blue uniforms and white lab jackets carrying clipboards and manila folders. There were stranger things, too, and he was sure he even saw a cadaver wheeled by on a rolling steel table. What the hell was this place and what had he been doing here?

With a breathy sound the lift came to a soft stop, and Edward stepped out to find himself in a claustrophobic room that was completely unlit and empty save for the lit chute. What was up with that?

Approaching the door, it slid open for Ed. He still was finding it difficult to adjust to such doors, and hastened out. Turning around to watch the door shut, he noticed that it had one of those contraptions with the thin slot next to it. After the door was closed, Edward walked forward to see if it would open for him again, but it didn't. Did the strange device have something to do about it?

Shrugging and figuring he wouldn't get such an answer to that and several more questions at the present time, the alchemist started walking forward. He had found himself in another long hallway, and this one had doors of which very few had the contraptions, those that did being found closest to the room with the elevator. Along with more doors, he passed by the first windows he had seen since finding himself in this compound, and found that the level he was on was at ground level. It was oddly comforting, catching a look at the outside world. It reassured him that it still existed in this unfamiliar reality he had woken up to. However, save for immaculately kept lawn with a couple bronze-plated statues, there wasn't anything to stare at and, knowing he wasn't safe anyways, continued on.

Eventually Edward came to a foyer where a few people milled about, talking with the few desk attendants there or amongst themselves, exchanging papers and discussion. Some of them shot Ed strange looks, and he had to force himself to continue acting as if he belonged; and like a professional something or another, judging by the lab jacket he had donned.

It was easy, definitely too easy, as he passed through the glass doors (sliding, Ed noticed with dissatisfaction; it was starting to make him feel out of contact with the world, not having to touch anything to cause a reaction) and out onto a neat tarmac road leading right to some wrought iron gates. Looking back on the building as he walked, if he hadn't been inside and known better, he would have assumed it was a small residential hospital.

Turning his attention back forward, he gaped. Scraping the sky were hulking constructions of steel and glass - cold, uniform, and something that seemed impossible. He could even see catwalks spanning the dizzying heights from one to another! Sunlight, the same that lit upon and turned his blonde locks into spun gold, glinted harshly off of them, forcing Edward to narrow his metallic eyes as he looked up. It wasn't just this brief glimpse of what lay beyond the concrete compound walls that took the alchemist aback either, for he could hear a great multitude of voices and angry car noises swelling up like a great wave that threatened to engulf him.

Where on Shamballa was he? Amestris was the most advanced nation he knew of and yet here the people spoke and wrote in a corrupted form of Amestrian, had technology beyond his wildest imagination from what little he had seen, and by the sounds of it, this one city, if the rest of it was like it was here, had more people than all of Amestris!

Gulping and well aware of his shaking legs, Edward lurched forward and took several more stumbling steps. If he had believed in any god, Ed would have been asking them what he had gotten himself unwillingly into.

Just as it seemed he was home free, however, yells arose from behind him. It seemed like the people who actually belonged at the institute had come to the realization that Edward was not one of them and that he was not supposed to be walking out of there. A few men came out of the building and shouted something at him, but in his awe their strange way of speaking made their speech incomprehensible to him and he panicked.

Next thing he knew, the filched plasma gun - surprisingly light for even a small firearm - was in his hands and pointed at the people that had intended to stop his progress. They had halted at the sight of the weapon, frozen in their tracks, and Ed started backing away slowly, wide eyes wildly scanning the lawn for any sign that he may be attacked in that direction. It was good so far. People tended to respond favorably when a visible weapon was actually aimed at them, rather than with the threat of alchemy, the Fullmetal Alchemist had come to discover in his line of work.

Edward wondered why the security was so lax when the place seemed important, but just thanked his fortune as he moved towards the gates. He expected them to open as he came near like the other doors did, but they didn't, and he ended up smacking right into them. Looking back, he growled at the amused smirks and taunting chuckles of the people he had threatened to remain near the doorway. He'd show them something to laugh at!

Returning the gun to a pocket, the alchemist clapped his hands together and placed them to the gate. He stopped at the deconstruction stage, much like how Scar's arm had functioned, and watched in satisfaction as shards of iron when flying through the air around him.

Turning back to flip his awestruck watchers the bird and then pull a lower eyelid down much like a child would, Edward ran out and didn't look back again.

~Section Divider~

**Author's Note:**

**Any and all reviews appreciated! I see that this story has been received rather well so far, and I am very happy!**

**The reactions of the people towards Ed's use of alchemy, and why security seemed so lax, will be explained later. Don't worry; I'm trying to make things logical in this story. If I realize I don't get around to answering some of these things though, then I'll mention them in an Author's Note. Also, I decided to call the world Shamballa like the first anime's movie, since I don't know what the FMA world is actually called and calling it Earth leaves a bad taste in my mouth.**


	5. In Which a Hero Ponders on Fashion

**Disclaimer: I do not own FMA**.

~Section Divider~

In an old but decently maintained apartment, outside of which went off incessant whines of police sirens alternating from high to low and back as if frequently passing by, a redheaded girl had rounded on a man, lividness expressed clearly in her visage, exaggerated movements, and the way she chewed him out.

"Whitney, you're an idiot! We had only one chance at this and you blew it! They're not dumb enough to fall for this stunt a second time!"

Her victim, Whitney, held his hands up in a failing attempt at appeasement.

"Hilde, it's not my fault, I swear! I thought I heard something!"

"So, you get a little jumpy and you split the scene? Do you know how much work Winslow had to do just to override the security and get you into there?" Hilde hissed.

"I didn't see you doing any of the dirty work!" Whitney accused her.

"Whitney, listen; this whole operation was highly illegal, and it was our only hope to prevent the Fuhrer and his little posse from getting their hands on something that they could use to unleash a war the likes of which hasn't been seen since the Amestris-Xing Alkahestry Wars, or worse! Not to mention those poor souls they plan to manipulate are still stuck there, nothing more than lab rats for them to poke at and take what they want from." Hilde said to her companion in a tone as if she were explaining a simple concept to a young child, passion jumping back into her tone at the end.

"Don't tell me that this whole thing is another one of your humanitarian campaigns, is it?" A gaunt young man crouched in a bundle of computer and holoscreens with wires strewn all about asked with a sign.

Hilde shot the other guy a look.

"Don't get started on that again, Winslow. In any case, these are human beings we're talking about, and who knows what will be done with them? Cruel experiments before eventual vivisection? After all, it's not like they're going to have memories from their "past lives". What do those idiots think they'll achieve? It's not like just because they're exact copies of famous alchemists from the past that they're going to have their memories also." Hilde scoffed, air quoting 'past lives'.

Whitney huffed and turned away angrily, muttering under his breath.

"What was that?" Hilde's voice was dangerously low.

"Uh, err; what I meant to say was that the mission wasn't a total failure! I did manage to at least shut off the growth process in one of the tanks before I fled!" Whitney stuttered, not wanting to arouse Hilde's wrath and figuring he could distract her with the news.

"And you just left them?" The redhead asked, her anger hardly ebbing.

"Like I said, I didn't have time to stick around. But from the sirens I could hear as I was leaving, I judge they must have gotten out. Maybe, if they really do have this 'alchemy' power thing, then they could have escaped if they wanted."

Winslow rolled his eyes as Whitney's doubtful tone.

"There is plenty of historical proof that alchemy did exist at one point in time."

"I still don't see how it's possible for humans to manipulate matter through this alchemy stuff."

Looking over to Hilde, he was surprised to see she was pulling on a jacket and then picked Whitney's up, tossing it over to him. He caught it and stared from it to his companion.

"What's with this?" He asked.

"If one of them did manage to escape, they must still be near the institute, and we're going to find him or her before his or her creators do." She explained, and started heading out. After a moment of hesitation, Whitney followed after her, the rickety door sliding shut in a jarring manner.

"Oh sure, I'll just be here, holding down the fort." Winslow sighed wistfully, getting up to the door and locking it before returning to his beanbag chair.

~Section Divider~

It was only the sense of danger that kept Ed moving. With every step he took he wanted to stop progressing completely to gape at the sights, which were completely out of the world to him. Not only did skyscrapers tower over all (ugh, it made him feel so short!) and stretch in all directions further than he could see, but snaking around them were sleek vehicles adding to the cacophonic noise arising from the sea of humans with angry honks and squeals as their drivers sat frustrated in traffic. Edward had never seen such cars, let alone in such numbers. Oddly enough, while the air smelled slightly noxious, it was nowhere near as bad as he would have estimated an area with so many cars and people to smell. If anything, it was even better than Central.

Edward launched himself into the crowds without hesitation. He was certain that if the institution he had escaped from was either government run or an illegal organization (it certainly looked like they were attempting to keep what was inside a secret, with the walls and unassuming appearance) then they would surely have the immediate vicinity of their building under surveillance whether through bugging the area or implementing undercover agents there. While this was no joking matter, Ed couldn't help snorting at the thought. What, was he in one of those spy novels? Actually, he wouldn't have been surprised if the whole thing was a dream, if it hadn't been for the burning sensation that still throbbed on his cheek.

Swallowed up into the mass of bodies, the Fullmetal Alchemist's thoughts were diverted to the task of struggling to keep from being jostled and shoved around. The streets weren't particularly wide but there were far more people than Edward was accustomed to, and almost all of them were taller than him! It wasn't fair! He woke up in a strange situation, escaped into a strange place, and now had to stand on his tippy-toes and jump up while avoiding being trampled just to get an idea of where he was going (although honestly, he had no idea where he was going, except away).

Honestly, Edward had been surprised at first that nobody gave him a second glance, considering the fact that most people did not wear lab jackets out into public and those that did usually wore clothing underneath, but he quickly came to discern why this was. These people had the most bizarre fashion sense he had ever seen. Sure, there were people dressed normally and often in suits, but there were also gaudy colors (even dyed hair, and it struck Edward odd as to why anyone would want green hair), with scandalously dressed girls and guys that had a lot of tacky jewelry on their person. There didn't even seem to be any sense to the styles.

With nowhere else to go (until he could find a map or get directions from somebody), but knowing he had two damn fine, real, legs to stand on, he continued forward.

~Section Divider~

"So, Whitney, what did the one you released look like?" Hilde asked as they strolled down the streets. Whitney, afraid that he may be recognized, wore a baseball cap and sunglasses which, while somewhat suspicious looking, wasn't particularly uncommon. While it the chill of autumn was in the air, the sun still shone painfully bright high in the sky.

"I couldn't tell too clearly. However, they were definitely male, probably Caucasian, with really long blonde hair. Seriously, I haven't even seen that many women with such long hair."

Hilde chuckled at the thought. Long hair on a guy was just so ridiculous in her opinion. Although she supposed, if he had been grown in a cultivation tank, that he wouldn't have ever have had a haircut.

"So, we're on the lookout for a white male with long blonde hair. Is there anything else you recall to recognize him by?" She asked.

"Yeah, he was pretty young from what I could tell, probably a bit more than a few younger than us, and looked rather short."

Nodding, they scanned the crowd as they walked, taking a stroll around the streets in search for their quarry. The police cars were doing the exact same for an unidentified intruder.

~Section Divider~

Ed twitched and looked around, straining his ears. Except for the yammer of the people passing him by, he couldn't tell anything out of the ordinary. Huh, he had been sure that he had caught wind of a short comment referring to him.

~Section Divider~

**Author's Note:**

**Yeah, this is definitely not my favorite chapter. It mostly served to introduce three characters that played a role that was not gone over earlier in the story, and will be important later. This chapter was originally going to be the one that introduces Edward to the fact that he's out of place in time, not place. Yes, I realize that there are OCs aplenty in this fanfic, but it's necessary for this story. I reassure you that I will not go Mary Sue or Gary Stu on you guys though with the OCs (although there will certainly be challenges up ahead for our protagonists, since it won't do for them to breeze through the whole story).**


	6. In Which a Hero is Run Into Literally

**Disclaimer: I do not own FMA.**

~Section Divider~

Ducking into a narrow alleyway once the crowd thinned on the fringe of a rundown part of town, Edward took a moment to examine himself more thoroughly, using a shard of a mirror he'd found on the garbage-strewn ground to examine his face. Except for scrapes and sore spots on his feet and toes from walking on rough concrete streets and being stepped on occasionally by others, along with the burned cut on his cheek, his entire body appeared to be in perfectly fine condition. Although he hoped he didn't get any infections by walking barefoot with scraped feet, especially in this alleyway.

However, he knew it prudent to change his clothes. First, white lab jackets surely weren't common wear even in these freaky times and he could be identified by it, and secondly, stitched on a front pocket was the emblem of Amestris. The thought of this strange institute using his country's symbol sent fury coursing through his veins (that they would dare use the dragon-lion and hexagram!), and fear stabbing into Edward's heart. Amestris couldn't possibly have some sort of connection with the people that had held him, could he? That was what scared him. While he wasn't sure how well known this organization could be, Ed didn't want to be mistaken as one of them either.

Thus, with a clap of his hands and application of them to his garment, it changed around his body, forming a shirt and pants with Amestris' insignia missing from it. Sure, it left much to be desired, but Edward wasn't going to be picky in this situation. Nevertheless, with another use of alchemy, he picked out whatever dyes lurked in the fabric and changed their composition, his shirt and pants turning pale purple and blue respectively.

All the bright blue flashes of light produced by the process of alchemy had caused the mass of filthy rags huddled under sheets of tin only a few feet away to rustle with movement, and the Fullmetal Alchemist looked to it, eyes blinking as they locked with a darker pair.

Silence, then . . .

"That was a neat magic trick! You think you could conjure me up a pie, lady?" The homeless man asked, smiling in a slack manner and revealing black gums and missing teeth.

"I AM NOT A GIRL!" Edward screamed angrily and stormed off breathing like an aggravated bull. The homeless man watched him leave, and then returned to his position of rest with something muttered about pills.

Just as he was leaving the alleyway, something collided with him and sent him sprawling to the ground.

~Section Divider~

"I still say you failed, Whitney. If he had escaped, then we should have found him by now." Hilde whined as they circled the area yet another time.

"Patience." Whitney groaned; also weary of the repetitive walking along with his partner's complaints.

"I still say you failed, 'cause otherwise we surely would have found a teenage boy with long hair by now!"

"You said the same thing twice, and I don't know, as I've heard that long hair is coming back into style with their age group."

Hilde was just about to comment on this when she and Whitney both stopped in their tracks, catching sight of a blue flash go off twice from within an alleyway. As they rushed over to check it out, they heard a shout and were not capable of stopping in time as a boy stepped out.

~Section Divider~

The alchemist had started mulling over two things that didn't make sense, but those thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sudden impact and subsequent fall. Edward now pushed the two bodies off of him and picked himself off of the ground rubbing his lower back and grumbling from the unexpected fall, glaring down at two people, folding his arms over his chest and tapping a foot.

"Care to explain why you bowled me over?" He accused with vexation clear as daylight in his tone.

~Section Divider~

Taken aback by the event, Hilde and Whitney remained on the ground staring up dazedly at Edward. Whitney was especially surprised, for he was a fairly large guy yet this guy, who couldn't even be five feet tall, had manhandled him so easily. Comprehension dawned on Whitney sooner than Hilde, but only because he had seen Ed in his cultivation tank before.

"You're the guy from the tank!" He exclaimed as he leapt to his feet, jabbing a finger at the irate alchemist.

"He's also the Fullmetal Alchemist." Hilde added as she stood up. She was surprised to see pride quick to spring into the features of the teenager, softening them from their anger considerably. After all, surely the name would mean nothing to him in this situation?

~Section Divider~

"I knew I was famous, but I didn't expect word of me to reach such strange lands. Of course, considering that you speak and write in bastard Amestrian, I suppose it isn't that far-fetched." Edward stated haughtily, before what Whitney said struck him.

"You're one of them, aren't you? How else would you know I was in that thing?" He shouted, moving into a fighting position.

~Section Divider~

"Listen, we'll explain everything to you later, so just come with us!" Hilde attempted to persuade Edward after deciphering his old manner of speech, who did not look swayed at all. Although right now, Hilde was just glad that the shouting, that had started attracting attention, died down. Likewise, the people that had come to check out what the fuss was left.

"Yeah, we're against those guys that contained you!" Whitney added.

The alchemist snorted, clearly not convinced. However, he did not move yet, his "enemies" presenting no actual danger towards him as of yet.

"You think we should?" Whitney asked, although did not give any more information as to what he was alluding to. Hilde nodded, and reached into a pocket of her jacket, causing Edward to tense. However, what she withdrew was nothing but a device, rectangular in shape and made of a black plastic or a similar material. She pointed it at Edward.

~Section Divider~

Edward's gaze locked onto the little object in the girl's hand, wondering what the hell it was. It had a little indent with a metal clamp sort of thing at the end, but did not look like a weapon at all. With the pressure of one of the girl's fingers against a switch however, he was shocked to see the metal clamp shoot out at him with startling speed. He just registered the feeling of a pinch before his mouth opened but no noise issued forth, as electricity started coursing through his entire body.

~Section Divider~

Hilde and Whitney watched the test subject fall limp to the ground, twitching occasionally. Both of them winced, imagining what he had just gone through, but knew it had been necessary to get the business taken care of sooner.

"No witnesses, right?" Hilde asked. The device she had used, which had derived from a Taser, was illegal to possess, yet alone use.

"None." Whitney said confidently as he moved to the unconscious alchemist, lifting him up into a princess carry.

"We're going to look weird with him, aren't we?" Whitney asked concernedly.

"There's no other choice." Hilde told her partner, and the two set off back to their apartment.

How did he know he was made from the Fullmetal Alchemist? And why did he think he was him? The redhead wondered to herself as they made their way back. Was it possible . . . no, it couldn't be. Such a thing could not be possible!

~Section Divider~

William groaned as he slowly started returning to consciousness. He was lying on something soft, there were humming and beeping sounds, and everything was white. His head hurt, especially around his jaw. Hovering over him was an active holoscreen, the face of General Mann displayed.

He was in trouble, wasn't he?

~Section Divider~

**Author's Note:**

**Yes, I thought I wouldn't be able to get a chapter out today, but I did! Any reviews, suggestions, questions, or anything are welcome.**


	7. In Which a Hero Is Answered

**Disclaimer: I do not own FMA.**

~Section Divider~

As he returned to conscious, the first thing Edward noticed was the low murmur of voices that seemed oddly fuzzy, accompanied by a buzzing sound and an obnoxious light that shown directly into his slit eyes. What was more though was the throbbing headache he had, and he was sure the light had at least a part in it.

Ugh . . . what had happened? Ed's mind drew a blank as he attempted to recall the events leading up to the situation he found himself in now.

Although his headache didn't go away, the alchemist came accustomed to the feeling of something hammering at his brain, sending waves of dull and warm pain over it. The voices became more distinct too as he came to, and he realized with irritation that he was being talked about as if he weren't there. He couldn't make out what they were saying other than his name, the bastard Amestrian too difficult to comprehend at the present time.

However, what really got him was the fact that there was a light shining directly into his eyes, and they weren't doing anything about it! Really now, this was pissing him off!

Mustering all of his will, Edward pushed his torso off and, once free of the light source glaring directly into his line of sight, he snapped his eyes open, wincing at the headache he had to endure, and frowned irately at the people at the end of the . . . was it a kitchen table that he was lying on? He recognized the redheaded girl (grr, that was the one that did that . . . whatever it was against him!), talking to an unhealthy looking man that he did not know by sight. Peeking out of the corner of his eyes as he took in his surroundings, he also saw the guy that was an accomplice to the girl before, relaxed into a shapeless chair just within eyesight in another room.

~Section Divider~

Hilde blinked owlishly as their 'guest' sat up, and returned his glare. It was the middle of the night and waiting for him to return to conscious had worn her down. Winslow could run on a few hours of sleep a night, but she needed her beauty rest!

However, Hilde knew his importance in their goals, and that she would have to make him accept their company comfortably.

So she plastered on a smile, her expression doing a one-eighty. How hard could it be to convince a kid, after all?

"Hey there, I see you're awake. You were a bit rambunctious, so we had to knock you out as a precaution. Do you know what your name is?" Hilde asked in a syrupy sweet tone, her face still remaining in that tense cheerful mask.

~Section Divider~

Edward practically gagged at the tone of Hilde's voice, and then bristled at her actual words. Dammit, even at twenty years old he was still being spoken down to in a condescending manner!

Rather than answer her question, Ed responded by folding his arms over his chest and turning his direction away with a pout and a 'hmpf'. He stared out at Hilde from the corner of a narrowed eye, and had to suppress the cocky grin that threatened to lift his lips upwards at her reaction. He swore that she looked as if her cheerful, babysitter-like facade was cracking and crumbling.

The alchemist then turned his attention to Winslow, who looked rather amused.

"Smart, but I know you're not dumb." He said.

Edward blinked, and then nodded as he allowed himself to smile.

"Good to know that not everybody here thinks so." Ed said.

"Kid's sharp, eh?" Whitney asked as he walked into the room, which seemed to be a small kitchen.

Now the old Edward would have blown up over the 'kid' comment, believing it to allude to his height. However, while still sensitive about it, hitting a major growth spurt and growing up had calmed him down considerably about it. Nevertheless, Ed allowed himself to growl at Whitney, even if he didn't launch a tirade railing against him.

"Who're you calling a kid? You're younger than me." The alchemist accused.

This got him stares.

"Neat! Authentic sounding Ye Olde Amestrian!" Whitney laughed.

"Personally, I'm surprised that he can even speak, considering that we thought he would have no memories. You're sure he responded to his former State Alchemist title?" Wilson asked.

"Positive. Although maybe they're a bit messed up, seeing as he thinks he's older than Whitney." Hilde affirmed.

Edward glowered at the trio, who seemed to have forgotten him to their speculations. First they kidnap him, call him a kid, and then have the gall to ignore him? The only reason he wasn't getting out of here right now was because they seemed to know something about the situation, along with his headache and the slight tingly feeling that lingered.

Finally his patience wore thin.

"You know I'm right here? I don't think it's very fair that you pull some dirty trick on me to stage a kidnapping and then forget about me to talk in your silly version of Amestrian when I want my questions answered, dammit!" His voice rose as he neared the end, shaking slightly with anger and partly due the confusion he'd had to put up with ever since he had first regained conscious in that tank of liquid.

The speaking stopped as the three returned their attention to the bewildered alchemist.

"What do you want to know?" Hilde asked after a moment of silence.

Edward blinked at this, feeling his mind kicked up into turmoil. There was so much he didn't know and wanted to know that he couldn't get any of his questions straight. He eventually just decided, after being conspicuous of being stared at intently, to start with the questions that came to mind immediately.

The alchemist ended up spouting off an incomprehensible string of words too quick to cath.

"Repeat that again and slow down?" Wilson said slowly.

"What was I doing in that tank?"

"Growing."

This didn't make sense to Edward, but he carried on and figured he could beat more details out of these people later if they didn't do so from further pressing.

"Where am I?"

"In our apartment, Central City."

Now this answer sent Ed reeling, but he quickly reined himself in. After all, Amestris couldn't be the only nation in the whole wide world that named its cities after its location, right?

Why does everyone speak and write in such weird Amestrian?"

"It's modern Amestrian."

"Maybe in your country it is." Edward mumbled under his breath, before launching into his final question:

"Why the hell did you call me kid?"

"Well, that's what you are." Whitney interjected. After being shot a quizzical look from the alchemist, Whitney asked Hilde to bring out a mirror and she left the room, returning a few moments later with the kind of mirror hung on doors.

She positioned it in front of Edward, and he gasped, shocked and taken aback, by what he saw . . .

~Section Divider~

**Author's Note:**

**I am so very sorry about not updating lately! I've been swamped with work and a bit unsure of where to go with this story. Can you find it in your hearts to forgive me?**


	8. In Which a Hero Comes to Realizations

**Disclaimer: I do not own FMA.**

~Section Divider~

In the mirror was a face Edward recognized, for how could he not recognize his own face? No, the problem wasn't whose face it was; it was why it looked like this. This was not what he last remembered looking like, although there was a point in time that he knew he looked like this.

"What is this? What happened to my handsomely adult face! I'm, I'm, I'm a kid!" He sputtered.

"If it makes you feel any better, you're boyishly good looking." Hilde offered, only to earn a snarl from the alchemist. She frowned as he returned to examining his face in the mirror, tracing the contours of his face and watching as his actions were reflected at him. It wasn't how he was taking it that upset the redhead; it was that occasionally he would touch the mirror and drag his fingers over it, leaving smears on it. He was so absorbed in his younger appearance that he completely ignored the ridiculously long golden tresses cascading over and around his shoulders.

"You're not so much a kid as you are a bratty teenager." Whitney input, distracting Edward once more from what he looked like.

"Kid, teenager, I don't care! How is my wife going to take this? I certainly don't look old enough to be the father of two now!" Ed snapped, frustrated.

At this the three exchanged painful glanced. It seemed like their precious guest still didn't comprehend the situation, and they would have to break the news to him.

"Fullmetal," Hilde began, placing a hand on Edward's shoulder. He would have removed the gentle touch, but something stopped him when he saw the look of consolation on Hilde's face. She could not know exactly how he was feeling about the recent events that had happened to him one after another in such a short span of time, but she could sympathize. "Your family has been dead for a long time."

The trio of young adults that could technically be called kidnappers watched with sick fascination as the alchemist's expressions shifted so rapidly that his face was a collage of emotion. A myriad of different, confused feelings warping his visage one after another in such quick succession that his face looked like it was dancing as the different muscles shifted.

Edward said something, but it was so quiet that none of the others could catch what it was.

"What did you say?" Whitney asked.

"I SAID NO!" Edward snapped suddenly, rage settling into his features, startling his hosts. Before they recovered from his angry outburst, he wrenched himself away from the light grip on his shoulder and smacked the offending hand and the arm it was connected to away.

Ignoring the protests of muscles still twitching from the experience with Hilde's immobilizing him, and the pounding of his head as it returned from its ebbing away with greater intensity than before, the alchemist pushed himself off of the table and ran. He clipped his elbow on the jamb of the kitchen entryway as he made for the door that led out of the apartment but paid it no heed.

As the sliding door opened up automatically with jerking movements, he kicked it without holding back, frustrated that he didn't even have a heavy door with hinges that he could slam with all of his might to vent. The moment the door was wide enough, he slipped through; satisfied to see the dent he had left in it.

~Section Divider~

"He is really too much to handle. Exactly how did he manage to keep from being booted out of the military with an attitude like that?" Hilde sighed, face-palming herself.

"To be fair, you did just tell him that his wife and two children are dead. I don't think he realizes his predicament." Winslow pointed out.

"Winslow, shut up."

"It was cruel of those bastards working on Project AAW to do this. And to the Hero of the People, nonetheless!" Whitney piped his opinion.

"Ah, but that's it. Restore the hero of Amestris and the lost art of alchemy, get the civilians on their side, and use all of those things against Drachma when the war starts." Hilde said darkly.

"I thought it already started?"

"Technically, war has been declared, but if you haven't noticed the only conflicts have been at Briggs and in Artaxerxes, and they have only been small-scale border and proxy skirmishes. Neither side is daring to take it any further unless they have something over the other."

"But don't we want Amestris to win the war? Shouldn't we be supporting Project AAW then?" Whitney inquired quizzically.

"I just don't know what's right anymore, but the fact of the matter remains that the military has no right to mess with life like this, without consent of their precious test subjects at that." Hilde sounded worn down. Nothing was going like she had imagined, and the downcast looks on the faces of Winslow and Whitney reflected her own.

~Section Divider~

Edward was lost, and even with his mind being in the tumultuous state of denial and heart-gripping doubt in his own insistence that what had been said to him was wrong, he realized this. He had no clue where he was, and the city seemed to sprawl endlessly in a mass of uniform buildings and streets.

Finally he reached what seemed to be a forum, completely pedestrian by the looks of it. There were many people, quite a few foreigners he could see, many of which had cameras and took pictures of something near the dead center of the forum, while others were clustered further off around electronic boards that looked like a way more advanced version of a motion picture screen and projector.

He decided to see what the big idea was at the center first. Getting sick of being polite and getting jostled by others, Edward decided to disregard everyone else and started elbowing his way forward, earning him many glares and angry exclamations that he ignored without tearing his attention away from his goal.

Squinting up, he realized that what so many people, especially foreigners (many Xingese, he noted passively) was a statue. It was a green in color - probably copper before the elements got to it - and covered in a bit of bird excrement, but surprisingly not too much, perhaps showing more care than most public statues had directed towards it.

When he came closer, he was startled to see that the statue depicted him. His replica in metal towered proudly above the masses (ha, they had to look up at him!). In its left hand it grasped the ornamental spear he had always been fond of transmuting, leaning out and back from him in a casual manner, while its left arm was held up, the hand and digits curled into a fist that seemed to back up the cocky expression on his tribute's frozen face. He noted that the attention to detail was very well done, with the statue's hair hanging down in a thick braid and wearing his trademark red cloak (although he noted, with slight irritation, that the right sleeve and glove were absent to show off the automail he'd once had). Looking down at the base the statue stood on, it had words etched to it that read, in written Amestrian that he was familiar with: Edward Elric, Hero of the People, a True Alchemist.

Ed's face took on an expression similar to that of the statue's, until he realized that he might be looked for and that he could be recognized right there. Looking around wildly, he saw that nobody seemed to have noticed that he was the same person as the statue. Huh. Well, the long hair and the fact that he was younger than he was supposed to be did help, he supposed. Even so, he couldn't help but feel rather off-put that he wouldn't even be recognized when he was a famous alchemist and standing right next to his own statue.

He decided to ignore the dedication to him in favor of the advanced screen-things that other people stood around. He realized, as he approached, that they all sounded and appeared to be foreigners or rural folk. Going to a slightly less crowded screen, he wormed his way through the mass of bodies and found himself at the front, where he could read the display clearly:

Welcome to Central City, Capital of Amestris. 10. October. AR 272.

Was this true? Were those kidnappers (Ed refused to think of them as anything else, regardless of their claim of being on his side, or at least against the institution that he had found himself waking up in) really not lying to him? The Fullmetal Alchemist blanched and he felt his legs become weak, the knees threatening to clack into one another. This couldn't be! But . . . it made more sense than any explanations Ed could come up with. He took a shuddering gasp, aware of himself bowing over as his hands gripped his sides as he hugged himself, shaking his head with fervor, blonde locks tossed around by the motion.

Everything he knew, gone? Just like that?

It was as if reality was crumbling all around him, fragile glass webbed with cracks and breaking apart after the toss of a stone. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair.

Information. He needed knowledge. If there was one thing Edward knew he could depend on, it was pure facts. Books, that knowledge came from books. Books were in libraries, and libraries were public.

Seeing what looked like a map of the city, color-coded, on a screen to the right of the one he stood before, the stone that had broken his world of glass, the distraught alchemist recollected himself and shuffled over to it. Yes, he would find his sanctuary in this alien world.

~Section Divider~

Although William could not feel the pain due to painkillers that had been administered to him in the hospital wing, he knew the damage he sustained to his jaw hadn't been pretty. Damn, for a little kid, that boy sure could hit! Well, he really shouldn't have lowered his expectations.

Regardless of his situation, the scientist knew that his presence, actually in-person, was demanded immediately; General Mann had made that very clear. Which was why, despite the fact that he was missing several teeth, had others that needed to be seen by a doctor, and couldn't even speak at the current time, he was making his way to through the first level of the building and out the front door.

Hailing a taxi (unfortunately, to keep its guise, none of the military-personal ones could be stationed at the institution), William ordered the driver to Central Headquarters, where he was to meet with his superior. He tapped the tips of his fingers together with apprehension and, when he wasn't doing that, instead drummed them against the thick manila folder on his lap. Oh, whatever answered to atheists, had he gotten himself into? He just knew the job offer all those years ago was too good to be true, especially when he had been a rookie!

Arriving at headquarters, William paid the taxi driver, who then drove off with an eagerness to get away from such close proximity to the military, and passed through various security checks as he entered and made his way to the conference room he had been ordered to.

~Section Divider~

**Author's Note:**

**I am sorry once again for the infrequent updates; I'm such a terrible person, aren't I? I'm not going to ask for you guys' forgiveness this time, 'cause I know I don't deserve it now. I just hope this chapter was alright, as I really have no idea how Edward might have reacted to all of this. I myself don't have anyone I'm close to nor have I ever been displaced in time. All reviews whether they be critique, flame, or just telling me that you enjoy the story are welcome!**

**P.S. Things such as Artaxerxes, the war with Drachma, the Amestris-Xing Alkahestry Wars, what happened to make alchemy a lost art, the AR calendar, and more will all be explained in due time.**

**P.S.S For any readers of Edward Elric: Secret Agent Unicorn, I have some of the second chapter done, but don't be expecting frequent updates. I'm mostly working on it whenever I feel like it.**


	9. Note and Teaser of Ch 9

**Author's Note: Yes, I know, I haven't updated in forever. This chapter is more of a teaser and promise that I am not abandoning this story; however, I need to rewrite my plans for this story and revamp what has been written of it. So . . . yay?**

**LINE BREAK**

Ed had wound his way through the streets of the city, boggled that this was the Central he used to know well. It was unrecognizable now, with wide streets ensconced by megalithic structures of steel and glass that shone harshly in the sunlight, with smaller buildings cramped in-between. People in garish, skin-baring clothing milled about like a busy hive, barely out of reach from the sleek vehicles flitting down the roads like a school of fish, water vapor rising up over them and misting their surroundings.

Now he came to a different sort of building, it and its grounds an anomaly from the rest of the city that he had seen before. The grounds were a pleasant spot of trimmed lawn with some small trees in the middle of the urban bustle, while the building itself, while large, also had an airy and light design with wood paneling along its walls.

Ed walked up to the building and entered, displeased that yet again it was another sliding door. What was wrong in the future that people couldn't even open doors by hand? He inhaled deeply, and frowned. It didn't smell like a library; the scent of pages and the like were missing. He looked around, and noticed that there were no shelves. Instead there were some cupboards that he could see people going to and retrieving or replacing some sort of flat devices that appeared to be made of plastic and had large screens. The majority of the library was taken up by monitors that had wires coming out of them and reading areas.

Now unsure from the lack of familiarity that he had expected (what happened to books?), the alchemist walked through the library warily, skirting around people and heading over to a less frequented cupboard marked 'history', removing one of the devices from it and glancing over it. How did this have anything to do with history?

Looking around, he followed the examples of others and headed over to one of the computers – not that he knew what they were – and plugged in a cord that extended from the computer into its designated outlet on the handheld reading device, if Ed had sussed correctly. The computer screen lit up and revealed a search browser already open. Looking from the screen to the keyboard, he started tapping clumsily with his fingers 'history of amestris', figuring that he should go from there. Sure enough, lots of results appeared on the computer screen and he started browsing them before picking one that seemed apt and clicking on it. His handheld reading device came to life and showed the cover title of the digital book.

Huh, this was pretty neat. Ed missed the feel of an actual book in his hands, but this also seemed more convenient. Unplugging the device from the computer he stood up and made his way to an empty reading area, already 'flipping' the pages of the 'book' until he reached a desired point and became engrossed in the reading.

A few pages in, and Ed discovered that things had gone very, very wrong. Worst of all, his death (Ed ignored that; after all, he was here and clearly alive) was just a footnote!

**LINE BREAK**

**Author's Note: Yeah . . . sorry about not updating in forever, and for giving you this sad excuse of a teaser instead of an actual chapter. Also, before you get on my case about not capitalizing Amestris three paragraphs above, I did that because I figured Ed wouldn't know what a shift key is.**


End file.
